My Husband Let His Mother Bully Me For A Year Over Infertility While Hiding His Own Results. So, I Read His Sperm Count Out Loud At A Family Dinner. Was I Wrong To Expose Him?

The Rationalization

He said he didn’t let Diane do anything, that she just got carried away with trying to help us have a baby. He said I was making it sound worse than it was by using words like “abuse.” He reminded me that his mother meant well even if her methods were pushy.

I asked him about the prayer circles where strangers prayed for my broken body based on lies he told. I asked about the women Diane brought to family dinners to replace me. Rick waved his hand like I was bringing up minor details that didn’t matter. He said those were just his mother being his mother, and I knew what she was like when I married him.

Rick leaned forward and his voice got softer. He admitted that yes, he told Diane it was my fault when we first got the test results. He said he panicked because he didn’t want her to be disappointed in him. His whole life Diane had expected him to be perfect, and he couldn’t handle telling her he had fertility problems.

He said he planned to tell her the truth eventually, but it never seemed like the right time. The longer he waited, the harder it got to admit he’d lied. He made it sound like a small mistake that just got out of hand, not a deliberate choice he made over and over for a year. I asked why “eventually” never came even when I was taking medication that made me sick and gaining weight while his mother called me defective.

Rick looked down at his plate and said he knew he should have spoken up sooner but he didn’t know how to fix it once it had gone on so long. I brought up the medication boxes I found hidden in his car, the ones he was supposed to be taking to improve his sperm quality. Rick’s jaw tightened, and he said the side effects were too uncomfortable.

He’d tried taking them for a few weeks and they made him feel sick and tired all the time. He said: “Besides, my issues needed to be addressed first anyway before his treatment would even matter.”

The doctor had said we both needed medication, but Rick decided on his own that only mine was important. He’d let me pump my body full of hormones while he hid his pills in the car and told everyone the problem was all mine. I looked at him sitting across from me eating the breakfast he made and realized I was looking at a stranger. This wasn’t the man I thought I married. That man had never existed.

The Ultimatum

I pushed my plate away and told him I wanted marriage counseling, but only if he called his mother right now and told her the complete truth about everything. Rick’s face shifted, and he said we should probably work through our issues privately first before involving his family more. I repeated that he needed to call Diane immediately or there was no point in counseling because our whole marriage was built on lies he told to protect himself.

He picked up his phone and put it back down three times. Each time coming up with a new reason why this wasn’t the right moment to call. His mother would be at church, or she’d be too upset to hear it over the phone, or we should wait until family dinner next week to tell everyone together. I watched him make excuses and understood that he would never voluntarily tell the truth because his image mattered more than anything else.

I stood up and told him I needed space to think, that I was going to stay with Libby for a few days. Rick’s expression changed completely, and he said I was abandoning our marriage when things got difficult, that a good wife would stay and work through problems instead of running away. I reminded him that a good husband wouldn’t have lied to everyone for a year and let his mother abuse his wife. But he talked over me, saying I was being dramatic and making everything worse by leaving.

The Discovery of the Papers

He followed me to the bedroom where I pulled out a small suitcase and started packing clothes. Rick stood in the doorway listing all the ways I was failing as a wife by not giving him a chance to fix things, as if he hadn’t had hundreds of chances over the past year.

I opened the closet to grab some shoes and found a stack of papers on Rick’s side that I’d never seen before. I pulled them out and saw they were printed articles about adoption agencies, surrogacy costs, and international adoption requirements. Every single article had notes in Rick’s handwriting in the margins talking about how these would be our only options because of my fertility problems.

One article about surrogacy had a note that said: “Leslie’s eggs probably won’t work. Need to find egg donor.”

Another about adoption had: “Tell agency about Leslie’s medical issues.”

Circled three times. He’d been researching all of this and planning our future around lies he knew weren’t true. Writing down my supposed problems like they were facts he needed to work around. I held up the papers and asked him what these were. Rick glanced at them and said he was just exploring options for us to have kids since my treatment wasn’t working.

I pointed to his notes about my eggs not working and asked how he could write that when he knew his sperm issues were worse than anything wrong with me. He said he was just being realistic about our situation and I was getting upset over nothing. I shoved the articles into my suitcase along with my clothes because I wanted evidence of how calculated his lies had been.

Leaving

The Departure

Rick tried to grab the papers from me, saying those were his private research, and I laughed at him using the word “private” after what he’d done. I texted Libby that I needed her to pick me up, and she responded immediately asking if I was okay. Rick saw me texting and demanded to know if I was telling my friends lies about him, if I was trying to turn everyone against him like I did with his family.

I ignored him and finished packing, throwing in toiletries and my laptop without caring if things matched or made sense. Libby texted that she’d be there in 20 minutes, and I went to wait by the front door with my suitcase. Rick followed me through the house saying I was making a huge mistake, that walking out wouldn’t solve anything, that I was destroying our marriage over something we could fix if I just calmed down.

I sat on the floor by the door with my suitcase next to me and checked my phone to avoid looking at him. He kept talking at me, his voice getting louder and more desperate, but I didn’t respond to anything he said. When Libby’s car pulled up outside, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out without saying goodbye to Rick.

He followed me onto the front porch still talking, saying I couldn’t just leave like this, that we needed to discuss things like adults. Libby got out of her car and positioned herself between me and Rick, telling him I needed space and he needed to respect that. I put my suitcase in her back seat and got in the passenger seat, locking the door immediately.